


new year's moonlight

by violetholdsme



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Crushes, First Kiss, Holidays, M/M, Mutual Pining, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28430247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetholdsme/pseuds/violetholdsme
Summary: When the holidays come around, Hongseok realizes he missed more abouthomethan he ever thought he knew.
Relationships: Yang Hongseok/Yeo Changgu | Yeo One
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	new year's moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> first honggu oneshot !! the prompt was "things you said under the stars and in the grass," and this is lowkey inspired by this song. thank you so much to @pentachuu on twitter for requesting the prompt <3 hope you enjoy reading!

Trying to forget how he ended up here was easy. So, so _selfish_ ーbut easy. 

Perhaps there was also hardly anything surprising about it at all, Hongseok thinks. In the back of his mind there was a suspicion, a mystical inkling of memories buried so deep downーmemories that could be ignited with only the slightest flicker of a flame. Somehow, it all felt so right to be underneath starlight and moonlight and clear night sky light, to be breathing fresh air whilst laying in the lush grass of his hometown’s old park. And after years of being away, it suddenly also felt so _real_.

“Does the sky look different in New York?”

It also felt more real than it ever had been, to see the man that lay beside him beneath the large expanse of green. Yeo Changgu’s honey eyes sparkled like Hongseok always recalled they did, and it was bewilderingーand frankly, quite frighteningーto Hongseok; there always seemed to be something more to discover hidden deep beneath Changgu’s inviting stares whenever Hongseok came back for more. He had been around the world and then some, and yet all that he had explored was nothing compared to the mysteries behind Changgu’s kind gaze.

“It does, actually,” Hongseok replied, turning his head to look away from the stars. He looked right into that mysterious glimmer of a stare, eyeing Changgu in their proximity and noting how those eyes never failed to capture him every time. “Much, much different.”

“Damn, I was kind of hoping you’d say no,” Changgu chuckled lightly, looking right back at him. “Thought I wasn’t missing out on much.”

Hongseok let himself respond with only a hum, letting the time all fade away as he let himself take in the glow of Changgu’s skin under the cover of the night sky. It irked him, almost, how much he wanted to stay in this momentーit almost felt like time hadn’t passed at all, like he had stayed here his whole life. There was nothing remarkable about his return to their small town, but Changgu echoed that sentiment in the best way possible. Hongseok saw it in the way the younger man looked at him with that same old smile, ran up to him as if the last time they met was only mere moments ago. Hongseok let himself get lost in it when Changgu whisked him away when he saw him at sunset, taking his hand with a confidence that made Hongseok feel like time had stopped for the other boy while he was gone. And when they lay on the grass under stars, Hongseok suddenly felt at ease, felt like they were kids again, like there would be plenty more moments like this to look forward to.

“I don’t think you’re missing out, really,” Hongseok blurted out, directing his attention back to the twinkling light above them. “There’s much more sky here. New York’s not all they make it out to be.”

“And how about all the other places you’ve been?”

“Neither are those,” Hongseok sighed. “It’s just not the same as here. It never is.”

They both knew when they graduated high school that they’d be taking different paths in life: what with Hongseok always having a passion for exploring the world, and Changgu wanting to focus on what was in front of him. They were next-door neighbors, acquaintances at school more than they were actual _friends_ , Hongseok would say, but time and time again they would run into each other enough to regard each other as _constant_ , no matter how contradictorily fleeting their encounters always were. People almost always left their small town to chase something greater, and those who stayed seldom had any reason other than that they had nowhere else to go. But after three years of living so far away, Hongseok learned to be homesick for this placeーand it seemed to welcome him back just as warmly as he remembered.

“Did you miss it here?” Changgu asked, turning to lay on his side, facing Hongseok and daring him to do the same. He did.

“Now that I think about it…” Hongseok paused, “I did. I missed it a lot.”

“Hmm.”

Hongseok wonders if Changgu had ever thought about him while he was gone, if he had ever been more than just a passing thought in Changgu’s pretty little mind. He entertains the possibility that maybe the other boy had secretly hoped for Hongseok’s return on every holiday that he couldn’t make it back, because there was no way Changgu was trying to keep him all to himself tonight just for nothing. However reckless it may have been, Hongseok wanted to hold onto that hope for as long as he had Changgu all to himself, too.

“What have you been up to, Changgu?”

“Same old things,” Changgu smiled, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow. “I’ve been teaching kids at the preschool since we graduated. Since you went abroad.”

Hongseok smiled at him. It was so very _him_ ーHongseok admired it, how Changgu’s eyes beamed with pride at something that may have looked so small to anyone else but himself. Changgu had an unabashed love for this place, a kind of wonder and kindness that Hongseok couldn’t pry his eyes away from. Changgu could light up all the streets for the holidays with just his smile, his genuine selflessness and care. Hongseok thinks distantly that Changgu may as well be the only life their hometown had left.

It almost made him want to stay.

“Missed me?” Hongseok teased.

“Only as much as _you_ missed _me_ ,” Changgu retorted.

 _A lot,_ Hongseok thought to himself, _but I didn’t realize it until right now._

“Really?” The softness of Changgu’s voice brought Hongseok out of his reverie, and only then did he realize what he had said out loud.

“Iー I didn’t meanー” Hongseok let out a deep breath, continuing with a much calmer, much more assured tone. “Yes. I missed home a lot. I missed _you_.”

Changgu’s eyes sparkled, glowing softly in dim moonlight as he moved closer, and Hongseok could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin.

“I was wondering when you’d come home, you know.”

Hongseok felt the cold skin of Changgu’s knuckles on his face, then, as he brought them gently to sweep across Hongseok’s cheekbone in a tentative yet assuring movement. Hongseok takes a moment to breathe before Changgu leans forward to move in closer, and every single glance and touch from when they were kids flashes in Hongseok’s mind like a cruel enlightenment of an old movie reel. Hongseok thinks back to every moment of weaknessーthe split-second he hesitated before getting on a plane to leave his old life behind, the homesickness he felt two weeks in that he bore for years after, the day he realized that he wanted to be kissed or held or touched instead of being on top of the world but so, undeniably alone. Hongseok thinks he doesn’t mind being tethered down to the earth, laying under stars. Not if it was with the boy beside him now.

But just before Hongseok let himself feel the press of lips against his own, his own fantasies crumbled before him, and he let the moment slip away into thin air.

“W- wait,” Hongseok stammered out, before turning to lie on his back. “We can’t do this, Changgu.”

Changgu did a very good job hiding it, if he was hurt. There wasn’t any venom in his tone when he spoke up again, only that same, reassuring warmth. “Why not?”

“I’m only here for the holidays, Changgu. Then I’m leaving again. I can’t do that to you.”

“I don’t mind.”

Hongseok was stunned, turning his head again to look at him in bewilderment. “What do you mean, _you don’t mind_?”

“I mean, if it’s alright with you, then it’s perfectly fine with me,” Changgu said, no doubt at all painted on his soft smile. “At least show me what a New Year’s kiss is like, before you leave.”

Hongseok loved the way Changgu glowed when he asked, so sure and practiced as if he had imagined how this moment would play out a million times before in his head. It was almost like he was daring Hongseok to say no, forcing him to remember just how much he missed home. How much he still _belonged_ at home. And that where home was, Changgu would also be. Always.

“It’s hard to believe you’ve not experienced a New Year’s kiss before, Yeo Changgu.”

“Christ,” Changgu giggled. “What part of _I was waiting for you to come home_ did you not understand?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Hongseok surged forward, cupping a surprised Changgu’s cheeks in his hand, speaking softly right against his lips.

“Sorry,” he paused, clearing his throat, “I know it’s not the New Year, yet, butー”

“Just kiss me already, idiot.”

Hongseok leaned in, all the hesitation from earlier dissipating into nothingness. Changgu seemed to be telling the truth about never being kissed, as he froze up a little at the first touch of their skin, but Hongseok was more than happy to guide him until the practiced confidence from earlier started to melt away and Changgu became putty under his hold. When Changgu’s lips parted to give way for Hongseok’s own, Hongseok basked in the sweetness of his smile and strawberry lip balm, and he felt cozy and safe and finally, so _at home_ surrounded by nothing more than grass and sky and the one boy that gave all of it life. When Hongseok pulled away, he wished he never had to. But the deep flush on Changgu’s cheeks was a whole other wonder in itself, even more intense under the veil of evening, and Hongseok was never one to waste the wonder of the most beautiful things the world had to offer.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were waiting for that,” Hongseok spoke softly, eager to keep the moment just to themselves.

Changgu hummed before teasing. “How _ever_ could you tell?”

“I just could,” Hongseok retorted, but his tone was soft, serious. “I think _I_ was waiting for it, too.”

“Sap,” Changgu teased again, but he pressed his forehead against the other boy’s anyway. “Don’t let that head of yours get too big. You were _literally_ the boy next door. Tradition says I was _required_ to fall for you.”

“Hey!” Hongseok snorted, moving away to flick Changgu on the tip of his nose. “Idiot. You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Changgu giggled. “So are you.”

Hongseok leaned in for another kiss, chaste and delicate, holding Changgu closer, tighter with every second that passed.

“Come over to my parents’ for that New Year’s kiss, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Changgu responded, only a whisper. “Then you can come over to mine, after. For more.”

Hongseok blushed, whispering back. "Yeah."

Changgu settled into the crook of Hongseok’s neck, relaxed when he felt the rising and falling of his chest while they held each other close. They’d have each other for the holidaysーthat was barely enough, really, but it was okay. Changgu had resigned himself to it long ago. And he knew they’d find each other again, that they’d follow each other no matter where their paths led them. At the end of the day, after all, all paths lead to home.

And _this,_ Changgu thinks to himself, knowing the same was on Hongseok’s mind: _this is home._

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a kudos or yell at me on [twt](https://twitter.com/violetholdsme?s=20) or cc if you liked this ^__^


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